Desideratum-Sine qua non, so to speak
by Purplela Vanilla
Summary: Their THING is a push. The push is a pull - a pull into something tighter than bark on a tree. [SBXSD]


**Disclaimer:** Sometimes I do wonder if my fascination in SpongeBob SquarePants and Sandy Cheeks created by Stephen Hilenburg will ever end, or fade...

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><p><strong>Title: Casual observations<strong>

Happy-go-lucky, naïve and a nudist he certainly is, perceptiveness was also one of his unknown traits. Despite it being hard to believe when it came to him. Especially him. Moving on, SpongeBob SquarePants did show a deep understanding towards the outer world. His world. Where all his friends lived in. Still, this didn't mean he always got it right. Everyone could account to that; yet, the fry cook's perceptiveness explained how he knew his close three manly, _manly_ friends: Patrick, Squidward (much to his dismay), and Mr. Krabs had found something. Something being a deep sense of happiness other than food, fame, and fortune.

It overthrown the three 'f' words.

_Which is __still__a lot to absorb__, __if I'm being honest__._

The sponge giggled.

_Who am I kidding? I'm a sponge, aren't I? _

**. . . .**

It happened again.

As predicted.

And surely not for the first time nor second or third. Once again the door to Mr. Krabs' office was shut tight by the target that slithered in silently. From his kitchen paradise the intruding fry cook summoned an ear to magically and randomly grow out to the south-down of his temples. He pressed it upon the door that could open to Mr. Krabs', trying to decipher the jumbled up sounds.

_What are they be doing?_

A curious sensation overwhelmed him, the force fiercer than a tidal wave which allowed a confused expression to wash and crash over his face. Big, bold, blue eyes strayed to the (limited edition Mermaidman and Barnacle boy) watch around his wrist, buck teeth chewed on his bottom lip, a tad frustrated.

_I don't get it, I just don't get it. This is the __third__ time this week __she__'s __entered his office__. __Just like last week. _

'She' referred to a six-times-jailed, mentally unstable (not entirely her fault) boating teacher. As of late, SpongeBob unlike Squidward took notice of the unusual, well-timed visits Ms. Puff made to none other than the boss of the restaurant, Eugene Krabs.

It made no sense.

It didn't add up.

SpongeBob's uniquely semi-functional brain could come up with no reason to her actions. Only facts.

_The days the target enters are: Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The time said target arrives is midday, around me and Squidward's lunch break. _

The only fact that frequently changed was the amount of time the mentally unstable instructor spent in the office, which could stretch from a furious forty-five minutes to a languorous hour and a half.

_There's absolutely no reason why she'd be back here since her summer job at the Krusty Krab ended three weeks ago. _

Unless...

"...she wants to work here. PERMANENTLY!" SpongeBob's smile, more brilliant than the burning star above the sea, lit up the whole kitchen. "Oh, boy, oh boy. This'll be great! Now I'll pass the test for sure cause I'll get all the secret tips from my boating teacher – or should I say co-worker."

He giggled like the little child he mentally was, yet he wasn't the only one. Mirthful sounds – presumably laughter thought he the sponge, derived from beyond the door, created by the two people alone in that office. Followed after was another noise. Not at all cheerful. Different in nature for it was raspy, desperate, and low. Extremely low in tone.

_Groaning? Moaning? Is something wrong going on? _

Deep and guttural, unaccompanied with either a belt or chair which fell down. Something or someone heavy collied with the table surface.

_Barancales, I think they're starting a worldwide war...Or wrestling._

But a war on what exact?

Shame, (and good for his inexperience in certain..._things...__that kind of "stuff"_) that SpongeBob would **never** know.

Then again, **never**, that ever ironic word could come back swinging at anyone.

Anyone did mean _everyone_.

Before the frantic fry cook could reign in the urge to _not-open-the-door-cause-I-might-interrupt-a-super-secret-meeting-and-get-my-but-kicked-and-fired_, or be the conscientious objector a.k.a. the peacemaker in the apparent wresting match, a Krabby Patty supreme order was ordered in its usual _what-am-I-doing-with-my-life_ voice.

Curiosity today was put on pause.

**. . . . **

Polished black shoes actually squeaked in anger when the owner of them, the sponge stormed off to the Rock, and ripped the not-so-light rock roof off it's hinges, the same way he did it the last time his best friend had him seeing all red.

Crimson red, insanely annoyed, enraged red.

_Ease up there, Spongebob SenselessPants. Everyone's a Goofy Goober. Not the first time it's happened. He's your friend, right? Patrick? Guy who helped you with your ugliness – stinkyness. Remember. _

"Yeah, he is." any anger he once had evaporated like water, transforming to serene, centred steam from a sauna. "One of my bestest friend in the entire world."

He smiled, freckles in his cheeks more pronounced than ever.

Honestly, it was no mystery why the sponge named SpongeBob couldn't hold a grudge against anyone. Negative feelings always vanished, always disappeared.

A hot-headed, close-minded temperament was so not in his nature.

But righteous irritation? Yeah. He was totally entitled to that.

"Hey, SpongeBob! Just the guy I was lookin' for! Wanna go jelly fishing?" greeted and asked Patrick, ever vigilant, as he was painfully unaware of his yellow friend's current mood, along with the way yellow fingers clutched and suffocated the paper they were holding.

"Heard there's a rare jellyfish down at – hey! Why'd you rip off the front door off my rock? You could've just rang the bell that's – oh, that's right. Fishpaste! I got no bell. Need to write that on my To-Buy list since officer Nancy warned me that my To-Steal list isn't allowed in this city. Hey, buddy, mind if I borrow your-"

"My phone? My phone bill? Wanna look at it?"

Straightforward, sincere, and serious.

No pleasantries given forth by an extremely pleasant Bikini Bottomite.

Patrick blinked. Not really understanding what was being said, but feeling that...

"I messed up. What I'd do now?"

"My phone. Phone bill. Ring a bell, buddy?"

The star frowned, his seemingly black eyes glittering. "Didn't I just tell you I have no bell?"

"Patrick, it's a metaphor."

"A meta-what?"

"A metaphor."

"A Metapool?

"Phor. It's a Meta_phor_."

Patrick blinked, pronouncing the country he seriously believed he heard right. "...Singapore?"

Unaffected, SpongeBob shook his head sideways, having accepted and acknowledged this peculiar side of his peculiar friend.

Refusing to sigh, he said instead."Patrick Star, you have not noticed but I am not fun-employed like you. I can't sleep in my house all day and get a reward for it. I can't afford to do what _you do_."

"What you saying?"

"What I'm _saying_ is that these bills," he waved them around for emphasis, thinking it was a good dramatic technique. "don't pay themselves. And how they must be paid wouldn't be so if you hadn't rocked the charts off your talking." prolonging the performance, SpongeBob paused. "Neptune, don't get me started on the number."

"Number?" croaked out Patrick, his voice painted thickly with a brush of nervousness, something his friend should have picked up, but didn't.

"Look, I know you feel a bit abandoned when me and Squidward go to work, and yes I let you in my home so you and Gary can hang out, any yes I said you could call a _few _people. But, Patrick, this number you keep call is killing me._ Financially_. Mr. Krabs is right: time is money!"

The pink fellow who's been sporting the same soiled shorts for the past seven days stood up from his chair. Determination, guilt, along with undisclosed material hid behind his eyes. An apology was at the tip of his tongue.

"No need to say it pal, I forgive you." the mature adult inclination for his square head became a childlike tilt. A thirst for certain knowledge. "So tell me, who do ya talk to for hours and hours?"

"No one." responded the fun-employed employee too quick, too defensive. Spongebob did indeed pick up on that.

"No one?"

"You heard me. Since when do I stutter, SpongeBob?"

Eyebrows raised in the finest form of scepticism. Squidward would've been proud. "That a name, Patrick?"

"No! Yes! No! I think...Perhaps?" the star waited a beat. Then two. Five to be safe and odd. "You buying it?"

"It's tough sell, buddy. Now back to my inquiry. Who's this person?"

The pink star narrowed his eyes to thin, almost rectangle slits.

"Who is this _per__s__o__n_ of which you speak?"

The sponge sighed, growing exasperated and an itty-bit hurt by a certain secret kept by none other than his best friend. "...Patrick."

The star held an inner struggle within him unseen by naked eyes. "Sheesh, you win, SpongeBob. Fine, I'll let you in...It's my brother."

"You don't have a brother."

"Yes I do."

"You don't." cut in – snapped SpongeBob, an edge of hurt somewhere in his tone which may have made his _best friend_ hesitate.

"Yes...I do."

"No, Patrick. You really don't."

"Oh really?" two sets of pink arms criss-crossed as they folded. A defence one might say. "Then do tell, SpongeBob Know-it-all-Pants, how do _you _know?"."

"Because you _told_ me."

"How do you know?"

"Because _you _were the one that _told _me."

Honesty was the best policy. Patrick knew this. SpongeBob knew this. Patrick knew that SpongeBob knew this. Patrick knew too that the sponge knew he knew this too. However, when said policy threatened to take away a part of your life which was blooming into a thrilling, and very devoted blossom, a precious flower that was a personal connection, already against the laws of royalty.

"H-how...d-do y-you know that it was really me who told you, huh?"

Perhaps, just sometimes your greatest friend in the world had to be left in the dark.

**. . . .**

"Aw, but Gary, it's spy on Squidward day today." whined the sponge named SpongeBob. A very unique name for a very, very unique person.

"Meow." said the Gary the snail, an undertone of logical sense laced in his sound.

"True, but I'm no gonna spy him doing something private. I do respect privacy." the snail rolled its eyes. "And what do you mean by a private affair he doesn't want anyone to know?"

"Meow."

"...But yesterday the guy with the glasses on that hit TV show Breaking Barnacles said that rules are meant to broken, like the weird stuff he was making for the greater good...I think. Plus, me and Patrick as best friends know..." everything. The word meant to be said dropped from the sponge's mind. As well as his tone. As well as his mood. "Well, most things."

"Meow, meow, meow?"

"Woah, what kind of question is that?" the yellow shaded sponge placed his binoculars down on the widow ledge, his notepad too. His entire face was a portrait of raw disbelief painted by the invisible brush of his snail's question. "Of I course consider Squidward to be one of my bestest friends. Sure, perhaps Squiddy isn't too vocal with his feelings of friendship, some may think he's anti-social, but I know that somewhere. In a place deep, deep down in his big heart. He considers me his friend too."

"Meow?"

"Yes, really, Gary. Neptune, what's up with you today?" the spy of a sponge turned his head back. "Despite the fact I've been to jail several times, I am no criminal. I'm a loyal citizen of Bikini Bottom, who follows the rules! Licking doorknobs is illegal on other planets, but not here. Robbery is illegal here. Nudism is illegal here. But stealthily observing your neighbour through your window past 8 PM is not in the rules of this obedient city, I assure you."

A snort or a chuckle left the snail's mouth.

It lead the owner of the snail to tilt his square head to the side, his blue eyes the possible shade of a glittering sea, displaying a devoted nature of concern—care. "You feeling okay? Want me to get the-"

Gary was outta the room, leaving his owner hanging – dangling on his last word. The snail moved at a blinding speed; he was gone in a blink; he escaped before his worst enemy's name was spoken.

"...Supportives."

_Ah, shrimp. I shouldn't have said that word. Gary's always disappearing for hours after._

After formulating a fool proof plan to deal with his escargot by his standards, SpongeBob went back scouting, only to discover more than he wanted to, more than he hoped to witness.

"Hey, that's...t-that's...huh?"bewilderment burst into the reached his brows, eyes, and lips."But I thought she and Squidward aren't...she's not his girlfriend. He's exclusive with... Or is she again?"

Technically, she was. Although the term EX-girlfriend would have perfectly described the female companion the cephalopod was currently hugging – embracing. Adoring as though tonight was the last night of their lives to do so.

"But I thought they broke up, didn't they? Isn't that why they're NOT exclusive? Supposedly?"

At a loss of words, at a loss of data, the bewildered sponge struggled the comprehend the mechanics.

_Neptune, another mystery. Just like my boating instructor and boss in the office._

Clouded with thought and its mistress feeling, SpongeBob PeepingPants bore witness to the pair, utterly lost in a moment: hands on the others cheeks, tender smiles (Neptune, to think his colleague knew how to create one), an Eskimo kiss. Struck dumb, PeepingPants saw the space they shared, the closeness, their personal eternity. Lost in the moment.

_Lost to each other..._

He had never experienced that with anyone.

Sure, he heard about it—society at the moment was for and against 50 shades of Coral. Saw it in films—Titanic had him in tears—he flooded his pineapple with it. But none of that could compare to the real deal. That tangible connection with someone obviously much more than your buddy.

_Intimacy._

He would have pondered on that immeasurable _thing_ if it had not been for a thought slicing its blade through all his others.

_It's none of my business. _

Mature in nature it was indeed. And if it wasn't the truth, then let Neptune burn the Krusty Krab to the ground, till it was only the ashes that remained. However, that wasn't necessary since PeepingPants did gulp, knowing too well his gut was churning with a raw sensation named culpability.

_Guess Gary was making sense._

Blue eyes closed. Binoculars were put down. Windows shut. Curtains drawn. Findings discontinued.

SpongeBob SquarePants said absolutely nothing to Squidward Tentacles later that night. Absolutely nothing while walking with said neighbour to work the next morning. Absolutely nothing during the whole day at work. Then again, his _I-know-something-you-don't_ grin did put his co-worker on the edge for hours.

. . . .

"And it's like I'm kicked out of the top-secret club. No one told me it existed! No one's inviting me! The three of them all have secrets and I'm all..."pausing his words, SpongeBob realised belatedly that, "Sandy?" might still be catching her Z's.

"You there?" he whispered on the phone, anxious. "C'mon, don't do this to me, Sandy. You're not still sleeping, are you? It's only 2:00 AM."

_Time I do laundry. Play chess. Do a sudoku puzzle. Or take a night-time stroll with a flash light._

Sandy mumbled, "...tunately not." swallowing most of the word in the sound.

"Good. I mean sorry. It's just that you're the only person I can talk to. I'd talk to Patrick but we're not on speaking terms this week. I'd probably go to Squidward but he seems to need more alone time with you-know-who. You know I'd go to Mr. K, but he and Ms. Puff are having s-"

"Alright, alright! I get it, alright? I'm the only one that y'all can talk to so," it pained the scientist woken up at twilight times to say what she said next on the phone. "talk."

"Knew I could count on you."

_You always come though. Save my but from trouble...guess that's a logical reason as to why you own it._

**. . . .**

Yawning a tired, slightly annoyed yawn, the squirrel wondered how internally strong she was. Honestly, it was through willpower alone did Sandy manage to listen to minutes and minutes of SpongeBob approved melodrama. SpongeBob approved.

_Times like this I wonder how the heck we became pals._

"I forgot something! What about Mr. Krabs and Ms. Puff? What could they be doing?"

"I dunno."

_Truth be told, I don't wanna know._

"But I'll hazard a guess that it might could be the same things Squidward and his sweetheart do."

SpongeBob's lips pursed in confusion.

"I don't think so, Sandy. It's different between them."

_This sponge, I swear sometimes. Don't he know that it's best to let sleepin' dogs lie? Or is it worms down here instead?_

Sandy sighed, reluctantly inviting herself into the conspiracy of personal involvements which were none of her or _his_ dang business. "How so?"

"They make noise."

"...noise?"

"Mhm, _a__ lot, __a lot _of noise." the frown on SpongeBob's face, the one of bewilderment (although she couldn't see it) filled his and Sandy's atmosphere with it to the brim, almost like chilled lemonade poured in a glass, centimetres away from overflowing. "All and every of the chosen days they meet up. If my ears weren't deceiving me-"

"Y'all don't _have _ears, Spongebob."

A yellow hand waved the scientist off that track of introspection. Though she couldn't exactly see that hand. "Details, details, Sandy. Now back to my aural discovery. It has come to my immediate attention that the sounds I hear in the office are always the same type: muffled, hearable and well, I dunno...I'd say desperate. Very desperate."

_Desperate?_

Confusion was the only available term that described Sandy's face state at the moment, then and there.

"What exactly do y'all be by that word, SpongeBob?"

"Well, Sandy, since my one-million word dictionary is not present with me, I'll use the word surreptitious. Yeah, that it! _Sssurreptitiousss_. It's like they're making sounds they shouldn't be. Like no one should know."

"Yet you do."

SpongeBob inclined his head, a bit sheepishly. As if he'd stolen another balloon on national free balloon day. Before knowing it was **free**.

"Sometimes I think I'm not supposed too. Weird, right?" His face paled out of the blue. The yellowness disappeared as the whiteness made it's home from SpongeBob's forehead to chin. "Or is it an invasion of privacy? Neptune...Now I really get what Gary was saying."

While the over-emotional, over-dramatic sponge was on the verge of a verbal hyperventilation state, Sandy was far passed listening then, the cogs in her brain grinding and working to decipher the scattered pieces of facts the fry-cook had given her. Determined, she tried to make sense of the secrecy going on behind Mr. Krabs office that spanned across days.

_So there's sounds they shouldn't be making. On certain days. No one should know. Back to the environment. It's in an office...alone...privacy...just the two of them...almost intimate. Like the ultimate...Oh. _

The realisation settled a bit deeper than the squirrel would've like.

_OH!_

"I have to turn myself in. It'll get worse if they find before I do. I'll be in tartar sauce then." the sponge continued to panic.

"Hey, SpongeBob..."

The squirrel dreaded to explain her recent discovery.

_He should know, shouldn't he? _

She reminded herself that it was SpongeBob SquarePants she'd be talking to.

_Golly, I ain't gonna open ma mouth and discuss that with him._

Especially not a light topic where his knowledge of it could be non-existent.

_S'not like he's a teenager any more..._

That fact gave her a bit of hope. So she tuned back to nonsense which escaped his mouth.

"SpongeBob..."

SquaurePants was in his own world for the moment. "I can't go to jail again! I can't! Gary's gonna eat the sofa! Gary's gonna starve! I won't get mail! I'll miss work!"

"SpongeBob."

"Spying on Squidward was bad enough. When am I gonna learn? When am I gonna stop? When? When? When? Whe-"

"SpongeBob!" snapped the scientist, her patience stretched further than a rubber band could ever hope to stretch. "Honestly, y'all can talk the ears of a billy goat, heck, the hind legs of a donkey even."

Her sayings were lost on him. "What's a donkey? And is your colourful language a compliment of my oral skills?"

Sandy closed her mouth, pausing to understand who Spongebob SquarePants was before she could continue. Flat and straightforward was her tone of voice.

"Long story short, whatever's going on between your boss and boating teacher, I'll assure ya that it's more or less a need. Similar to Squidward and his girl, but reasons might differ."

"Okay..." the fry cook let that sink in. "So what kind of need is theirs if it's not like Squidward's?" he asked, curious as ever. "With Squilvia, he looked so relaxed. I've never seen him that way. Not around me. Not a work. Not even with his clarinet."

_He's happy. For once in his life maybe. Probably. What more can I say?_

"I do agree with you about the reasons part, cause Ms. Puff always seems to leave the office looking all roughed up." Sandy's brows rose at the last words. "It smeckledorfes me," her brows rose at that word. "but seeing that massive grin on her face after her sessions makes happy for her.."

The squirrel closed her eyes while speaking, a past – memories, no doubt replaying somewhere in her head. "Guess she's startin' to find what Squidward found. That _thing_. What Patrick might find one day, though I doubt he'll find _it_."

"It? Thing?" the sponge scratched his head. "Sandy, you're the one smeckledorfing me now."

_So are you with that word._

Exasperated, the scientist planned ahead how to keep this conversation short. What was once 2am was turning into 3am. Time was not on Sandy's side. "I'll keep this explication real nice and simple. Look, it—the thing...it's a connection – a need." Sandy's tone changed a notch. "Sure as shootin' it's one heck of a feeling your neighbour and boating teacher are having. Permanent or temporary." the squirrel sighed, not meaning to. "I mean, it's what we see and read and hear about, right?

SpongeBob hummed a deeper level than his normal voice. "Hmm, you seem to have history with this kind happiness quiet well, Ms. Cheeks."

Brown eyes rolled at the hidden sneakiness, or knowingness from her buddy. Ms. Cheeks barked a bitter laugh. One kind her friend hadn't heard before and wouldn't understand nor grasp yet.

"Nah, I don't have any. And to clarify this happiness y'all keep gushin' over, it's still a need.

"A sine qua non."

Impressed, the scientist said, "Be as Latin as y'all want, SophisticatedPants. It's still a necessity."

One of the most prominent, potent, and primal ones in the world.

"But I hav'ta concede that it's for sure something absolutely necessary," hint: something can be someone. Little did they know that they'd be discovering that inflaming, inexplicable fact this month. "But I'd call it a desideratum – something needed."

_We all can have it. Land critters and sea critters alike. The humans too. _

SpongeBob chuckled, "Nice word enhancer, Ms. Fancy Cheeks.

"I learnt from the best."

"I'm flattered."

"Should be," Sandy held back a first yawn, already assuming the next and the one that followed after that would release itself. "I don't just imitate anyone."

"Now that makes me honoured. Thanks a bunch, Sandy. You came through for me." the complete, unabashed honesty in his voice had her shaking her head, along with a genuine smiled sneaking across her mouth. "Might not seem like a big deal, but you really were the only person I could talk to."

"T'weren't nothing."

"No, it was something. Though not as extreme as wrestling, I tell ya that."

_What in tarnation?_

Sandy blinked twice, wondering if it was wise to continue what didn't need to be continued."S'cuse me? What's this about wresting?"

"Mr. Krabs and Ms. Puff, of course. Don't you remember the loud noises I told you heard?"

His words froze the moment for ten seconds.

"Y'all think they're wresting?"

"I know." he declared. "But maybe I think I know. In fact I thought I knew. Excuse my French but, fishpaste! Now I know! I know that I think I thought I knew what I was thinking I knew then, which was what I was thinking. What I thought. The wrestling. But now I don't think I knew. I thought I knew. I assumed, didn't I?"

SpongeBob's eyebrows twisted in a knot, "What else could they be doing?"

A giggle was swallowed down a brown-furred throat. Humour in this situation was much easier to entertain than explaining the _other _situation.

_I ain't got time for that._

Laughter was what she desired to let out in that moment. However, so burnt out. Worn out. Tired out. Sandy failed to pay attention to her following mumbled words. Not aware of the sponge's curiosity she might evoke.

"You're halfway there, SpongeBob. Halfway there."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hey, I'm back again! Back into the SpongeBob SquarePants sphere. Spandy related of course. Few weeks ago , could be a month, a huge plot bunny wouldn't stop hopping around my head. Day and night it wouldn't leave me alone. I guess I decided it was time to just release it – this fanfic. There's a crazy, crazy, crazy urge for me to write a very believable Spandy fic on how the both of them could enter something very, very deep with each other. Need I mention that I'm busy than ever now, so I'm not so sure if it was wise of me to do this fic.

Anyway, thanks for reading the first chapter! Please REFLECT on what you've read then, REVIEW by typing your thoughts or/and criticisms. It'll help!


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